


Between Stardust and Rocks

by 4ever_Rewritten



Series: A Thousand Different Lives [2]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Guardians of the Galaxy - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Origin Story, Asexual Relationship, F/M, Other, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-13 10:16:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4518045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4ever_Rewritten/pseuds/4ever_Rewritten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You may have been verging on the criminal side of things, but your heart was still in the right place, despite what other implied. </p><p>An alternate origin story...sorta.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dark eyes stared out from the mess in the corner of your workshop, far more intelligent than you had initially thought. The small crate you had the creature in just hours before was torn to shreds...no, not torn, disassembled. From the inside out. 

Oh, if Denarian Saal ever got wind of this, you would be in so much trouble. A one way trip to the Klyn. But what were you supposed to do? Allow the poor thing to handed from illegal mad scientists to legal but still mad scientists? You could still freshly picture the nodes of metal protruding from its back, the soft fur mangled with burnt flesh. It had been all too easy with a slip of hand to hand the empty crate off to officers and hide the light bundle beneath your coat before quickly excusing yourself from the frigid chill. 

You sat down the simple dish of cold cuts on the floor as close as you dared to the hiding place of the experiment formerly known as Subject 89P13 before settling at the worktable with your own sandwich. What you wouldn’t give for a guide to recovering illegal experiments for dummies. You expertise was focused mainly on mechanical things. Computers. Weapons. Ships. You even had helped out a few androids and basic robotics. Yes, you had a soft spot for cute little animals, but that was usually expressed as food left out for the stays in the crowded slums of Xandar where your apartment resided. Buying boxes and scraps of fabric and leaving it out on cold wintery days. 

Honestly, your shaky contract with the Nova Corps hung in the balance of them ever finding out you stole from them...Okay, Subject 89P13 wasn’t the first thing you had snitched during your missions, but possibly one of the more serious thefts. Usually you pilfered needed stuff, like base materials and maybe specs. But a unique and living thing? 

Oh yeah, Saal was so going to kill you. Or send you to the Kyln, which was virtually the same thing. 

The quiet scratching of nails against metal drew you out of your panicked thoughts. Subject 89P13 (okay, he sooo needed a better name than that) had made his way out of his hiding hole and was walking-upright, mind you- to the dish of food. Your breath caught in your throat, just waiting for him to notice that you were watching and dart away. Instead, he grabbed a slice of deli meat and nibbled experimentally on it before glancing your way. 

You expected fear, a retreat, maybe a snarl. Instead there was a shrug and a nod. “It’s a hell of a lot better than that shit they fed me.” 

Your butt hit the floor as you slid off your stool in shock. “You-you _talk_?!” 

He surprised you even further as a honest smirk spread across his muzzle. "I can do a lot more than just talk, sweetheart."


	2. To Be Named

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, this wasn't suppose to be one shot, but...nope. Probably a few more coming, but not much of a plot.

Subject 89P13 rarely left the apartment, though you had made sure that he knew he was free to come and go as he pleased. That while he would always be welcomed in your little nest, he didn’t have to stay if he didn’t want to. He seemed shocked by the mere idea, and had left a few times. Sometimes with you on errands, which was always a wild adventure. But he had also left on his own and each time it secretly terrified you, whether it was just for a few hours or the one time he was gone for two days. There was a fear he wouldn’t come back. You had a few blissful weeks of adjusting to having someone in your nest, of the odd friendship that formed between you, and the thought of being alone once more...it didn’t sit well you, even though you were determined to adjust for his sake. If he wanted to leave, that was his choice. For once, he had control of his life, and you weren’t about to take that control away. 

Except each time he would return, cursing at the rest of the populace as he disassembled junk in a rage. He didn’t talk about it, and you didn’t push. But you did try to cheer him up with good food and discussing some schematics or other projects and things settled back into the comfortable routine…. Or as much as a routine as you two could have with your combined high-energy and rather unconventional personalities. 

There was no doubting 89 was a genius when it came to tech. What you had to study and work to understand came naturally to him. Your business, both official and unofficial, boomed with his help. You easily made twice the units, and made sure he got his own fair share. Which was another thing that surprised him, after you explained the whole monetary system to him. It was so odd the spots of knowledge that seemed to be missing, but only strengthened that ugly thought that he had been created, designed for a purpose. And it wasn’t to have an actual life. 

But you swore he would. Now if you could just find a better name than 89. 

“Hey, I was thinking,” he spoke, interrupting the companionable silence as the two of you worked on separate projects. Well, silence was rather relative, with music playing in the background as well as several news programs. You could never stand silence.

“Oh, I was wondering what that smell was,” you quipped back with a smile.

“Oh yeah, ha ha. Laugh it up sweetheart, because we both know whose brain really tends to struggle.” He rolled his eyes, though a smile twitched at his lips. The two of you could sass each other for hours until you couldn’t talk between laughs. “But, I think I found the perfect name for me.”

“Really?” you paused, “And what’s that? Master of the universe? King of the galaxy?”

A bolt flew in your direction, and bounced harmlessly off the deactivated bot in your lap. “I’m serious, dumbass. I think Rocket is a freaking awesome name.”

You paused, a warm feeling blossoming in your chest after a moment. “Jeez, rocket! Slow down!” had become a common thing for you to shout when 89 dashed around your apartment overly excited about some new project, or just still very new to the whole freedom idea and had an urge to stretch his legs. You almost missed his eyes glanced towards you after a pause, looking a little...wary? No, uncertain. Even you weren’t oblivious to the fact that despite his gruff and independent streak, he was rather affection-starved. He seemed to love any attention given to him, from grouching at him for the mess he often left in his wake to laughing with him over something found on the Net, or geeking out over some new article. “I like it,” you confirmed after a moment, with no hint of laughing. 

“Really?” he was cautiously optimistic, and for a rare moment, vulnerably honest. “You don’t think it’s dumb?” 

“I’ve been calling you Rocket for how long?” you shot back, leaning over to ruffle the fur on the top of his head; his attempts to bat away your hand were halfhearted at best. “It’s perfect for you.”

He was trying really hard to scowl at you, but his lips were still twitching into a smile instead. “Yeah, well, you have a few good ideas once in awhile, sweetheart.”

“Yep, and you were my best one,” you shot back cheerfully as you turned back to the small bot in your lap, completely missing the look on his face this time. 

Because damn it, he was convinced that he owed you the world. No, he owed you the whole damn galaxy, and yet you treated him like he didn’t owe you a single thing. Like he was a friend. An honest equal. It blew his mind to the point that he wondered if he wasn’t dreaming, and someday he would wake once more trapped in the cage, waiting for the scientists to turn their attention back on him. 

Some day, he feared, he would lose this. Lose you. And it terrified him far worse than death ever did.


End file.
